Lonely
by sigmawhore
Summary: McCree reflects on the past by doing what he knows best: drinking. (One-Shot)


A shot glass slammed on the table. It was grasped by a robotic arm, and that arm belonged to a fugitive named Jesse McCree. He was not one to get completely buzzed by mid-afternoon, but drinking was how he had pondered many things. It was actually nice that he had set himself up for this; the saloon was quiet, occasionally with the sound of the bartending Omnic organizing bottles for the rush to come.

McCree pulled out a picture that he had hidden for quite a long time. The folds in it were pronounced, and it was of him and his partner-in-crime toasting to the first heist that they had gotten away with. They were so young and reckless. It was a wonder as to how they had gotten away with it. His finger brushed against the side of the photograph, around Elizabeth's face. She was nice to look at, but she was nothing but a spoiled brat, getting every single thing that she wanted in life.

Everything except him.

"Another," Jesse commanded, and the robot was quick to fill the shot glass up to the brim. He braced himself before raising the tiny cup to his lips and throwing his head back. It was odd, being alone. Even after being in a gang and being the odd one out, he was still in need of being surrounded by others. But, he was a gunslinger by nature, and this job was best suited when you're alone.

He sharply exhaled as the whisky burned the back of his throat. He almost didn't hear another person enter into the saloon. The boots clicked across the floor and stopped a couple of feet away from them. Jesse glared for a second. It was none other than Calamity. He quickly shoved the worn photograph into his jeans and silently groaned. It was just like her to ruin his contemplation.

"Jesse," she muttered before instructing the robot to serve her a glass of merlot.

McCree said nothing. He didn't want to say anything to her. If he did, it would end up in emotional outbursts with her screaming that she loved him. She loved him, and it showed. But her isolation made this happen. She never knew what life was until she met him, or so she claimed.

Ashe pressed her scarlet lips to the wine glass before taking a tiny taste to whet her palate. She had always done this. It was a quirk that she knew Jesse joked about. Perhaps this was her way of making conversation. On the outside, she was cool as a cucumber; inside, she was dying. Her heart yearned for the outlaw, as she realized she was deeper in love than she ever thought she could be.

McCree cleared his throat and lifted the glass up, hinting that he would like more whisky in his possession. The Omnic bartender responded yet again. McCree would more than likely give him a tip due to his swift timing. He looked at the silver-haired female, giving her a harsh look. "Were you goin' to try to seduce me again?"

Ashe pressed her lips together. That was one of the many things that she had done that drove Jesse away. It was something she regretted. She didn't want to force herself on him, but he was just so damn fine… "I've come to make peace with ya, Jesse. I don't want t'have t'hurt ya. Ya know…. Come back peacefully, and you'll have everything your heart desires."

"You are such a snake," he growled before taking his 4th shot of liquor. Another sharp exhale came from his mouth. "You jus' want me to fall for ya. Ain't gonna happen, sweetheart."

After a brief pause in conversation, Elizabeth stood up and splashed the rest of her merlot onto the cowboy. "This…. This means war, Jesse McCree." She stormed out and approached a large Omnic robot, who he suspected was B.O.B. She would talk to him, even if he didn't talk back.

The sad part was that Ashe was lonely, too.

Yet, they couldn't be lonely together. McCree didn't want to fall for her. She already fell for him, and that was quite a shock, considering she was like a sister to him. Still, she was lonely too.

He supposed outlaws were destined to live a life of isolation and alcohol. That was the natural order of things.


End file.
